


Work of Heart

by approaching_asymmetry



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind!Marco, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Sculptor!Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8993521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/approaching_asymmetry/pseuds/approaching_asymmetry
Summary: When Jean Kirschstein, a local sculptor, meets Marco Bodt, quite possibly the least likely man to be found at an art gallery, a relationship is born. Along the way, the two learn a lot about art--and love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eryis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryis/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy this piece; it was a lot of fun to write! I present: some awkwardness, some sarcasm, a whole lot of sappiness, a few dick puns, and quite possibly the cheesiest title to ever exist.

July 26, 2013

  

"Do you like this one?"

"Hmm?" Marco turned towards the source of the voice that stuck out from the dull murmur of the scattered art gallery patrons. The stranger repeated his question.

Marco tilted his head and chose the path of blunt honesty. "I don't know yet."  
The stranger's voice raised in confusion. "How do you not--" He cut himself off. _There it is_ , thought Marco. "O-oh. Um. Nice shades."

"Sasha tells me they're fashionable."  
Jean shrugged, then felt a little dumb considering Marco couldn't see him.

"Sasha's right, whoever she is. Your girlfriend?"

He almost jumped at Marco's sudden snort. "Oh my god," Marco laughed. "That's a new one, I'll have to tell her!" He paused to wipe a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. Jean hadn't thought it was _that_ funny. Marco kept talking, realizing he needed to explain himself.

"For one thing, I've been single for twenty-four years. I know, it's surprising, right? Hot young stud like me?" Jean couldn't help but smile. It would seem sarcasm was a language in which they were both fluent. Also, Jean wouldn't say it out loud, but this guy actually was pretty damn attractive. Tall, with dark hair and a strong jawline--Jean had always been weak for a strong jawline. And all those freckles... He stopped himself. No one should be unwittingly subjected to his thirsty ogling.

"And for another--" Marco lowered his voice, not knowing who else could hear. "I'm very, very gay." Jean raised his eyebrows. _Oh_. Marco continued. "But anyways, Sash is the one who brought me here. She's a docent at the local art museum and does verbal descriptions, and she takes me along with her to art fairs and galleries. Which is why a blind guy is at a visual art show. In case you were wondering." Jean had been about to ask.

As if summoned, Sasha approached the pair. She poked Marco's shoulder and announced her return. Then her attention turned to the stranger. "Making new friends, Marco? My little social butterfly," she crowed proudly, patting his arm.

"Yes, this is..." Marco trailed off, realizing he didn't know the stranger's name.

"Jean," the man supplied helpfully.

"This is Jean," Marco finished with a nod.

Sasha looked Jean up and down, then tugged on Marco's shoulder so she could whisper in his ear. "He's really cute. Just so you know."

Marco could feel his face warming up, but he smiled and whispered back. "He can probably hear you. Just so you know."

Jean leaned closer and lowered his voice as well. "He's right. But I think he's cute too. _Just so you know_." Marco could practically hear the wink in Jean's voice, and by this time, his face was burning. He nudged Sasha awkwardly and spoke quickly, words a little choked.

"So how about this one, yeah? You said it was a statue?" Jean was enjoying seeing Marco getting a little flustered, and he and Sasha shared a conspiratorial glance. Sasha, still grinning, began describing the abstract sculpture. She started with the obvious, like the general size, color, and shape, and went on to note every small detail, mentioning things that most viewers probably would have passed right over. Jean was a little bit fascinated, never having heard a tour like this. He'd never needed to, but now it was interesting to hear someone recreating the work, down to the smallest detail, with only words. And the occasional joke or quip, which they all laughed at.

"And the artist is," Sasha glanced down at the label, "Jeen Kirschsteen." _Nope_. Jean couldn't help butting in to correct her.

"It's _Jean_ Kirsch _stein_ , actually." Sasha's eyes flitted back and forth between Jean and the label, and the instant of realization was hilariously apparent on her face.

"You?" Jean nodded. "Hey Marco, apparently we've been talking to the artist this whole time!"

"I gathered that, yeah."

"Now that I think of it, maybe I shouldn't have compared the shape to a butt--"

Jean cut in again. "It did kinda deserve it though." Marco laughed, and Sasha nudged him.

"I like this one. You should keep him." Marco, embarrassed blush from earlier back in an instant, was ready to smother Sasha with his bare hands before Jean spoke again.

"I mean, I'm free on Tuesday night. Wanna get dinner?" He spoke quickly, like he had to say it all before he got too nervous.

Marco froze in surprise. A date? He opened his mouth a few times to answer, but language was proving difficult.  
Sasha gave him a not-so-subtle jab in the gut, and he suddenly remembered what words were.

"I'd love to!" he gasped out. He heard Jean exhale in relief.

"Tuesday it is."

 

~~~

  
   
August 3, 2013

  
   
"A second date? Are you sure?" Jean shook his head, instantly regretting his choice of words. Marco just laughed. He and Sasha had been out running errands when she noted (a little too casually to be coincidental) that they were passing the studio where Jean said he worked. Marco, feeling a swell of bravery, decided to pay him a visit.

"Yes, I'm sure. We can go to my place; I'll cook you something."

"You can cook?"

Marco's immediate deadpan expression told Jean he'd fucked up. "No, Jean." Marco's voice turned suspiciously cheerful. "Blind people only eat cereal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, of course!"

Jean grimaced. "Yeah, sorry, that was dumb."

Marco smiled. "To be honest, it's not the worst thing I've heard. In any case, I'll let you make it up to me on our date." He elbowed Jean's arm, which turned out to be his chest. Neither man really cared.  
"But--" Marco laughed lightly "--I suppose I should warn you: I've always been told my food tastes great, but I can't make any promises about presentation."

Jean made a thoughtful hum. "Oh, really? Why not?" There was a pause before they both burst into laughter, Marco's hand resting on Jean's shoulder.

  
   
~ ~ ~

 

August 8, 2013

 

"Has anyone ever told you you have a really nice voice?"

Jean made a surprised noise. "No? To be honest, I always thought it sounded kinda weird. But everyone hates their voice when they hear it in recordings, right?" Jean took a bite of his breadstick.

Marco hummed. "It's sexy."

Jean choked. 

"Jean? Oh my god, Jean, are you okay? I know the Heimlich maneuver, I can--"

"No--" _cough_ "--I'm fine--" _cough_ "--I just like inhaling bread." With an effort, he cleared his throat, then continued. "It's a fun hobby of mine, you should try it," Jean rasped, reaching for his glass. If Jean was using sarcasm, he must be okay; Marco flipped his tone to match.

"Oh good, I was worried you were choking to death. I can't have another mysterious death in this house. The police are already suspicious enough, and it's really just inconvenient to have to take care of another body."

Jean raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion before realizing Marco couldn't see it. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Oh?" he asked. "Another?"

"I'm a dangerous man, Jean Kirschstein. A man of mystery."

Jean huffed a laugh. "Oh I'm sure."

"I'm practically James Bond." His British accent, Jean noted, was impeccable. So were his breadsticks, when they weren't trying to find their way to his lungs. He relayed both of these observations to Marco, who laughed but thanked him genuinely.

"To be honest, there was a period of time where I wouldn't even come near the oven. I burned myself once, so it kinda spooked me. Probably still have the scar on my arm, they told me it looked pretty bad." He presented his arm to Jean, who could see a patch of slightly darker skin near his elbow. Jean ran a finger along the edges of the scar.

"Yikes. That was a pretty big burn."

"Yeah, it convinced me to stay away from the oven for a good five or six years. But then one day, I had a ridiculous craving for homemade chocolate chip cookies, so I decided to brave it again."

  
"You went back to baking just for the chocolate chip cookies?" Marco grinned at the dubiousness of Jean's voice.

"Just for the chocolate chip cookies."

"You're ridiculous."

"A little bit, yeah," Marco laughed.

While they spoke, Jean's fingers had trailed down from Marco's forearm and stopped to rest over his hand. They stayed like that for a moment before Marco twisted his hand to entwine their fingers. Jean looked down at their hands before speaking quietly. "Marco, I...I really like you."

He looked up to the curve of a small, thoughtful smile on Marco's lips. "I really like you too, Jean."

 

~~~

 

February 16, 2014

 

"Feel this one." Marco could hear the excitement in Jean's voice. "But be careful, it's delicate," he added quickly. Marco held out his hand, and Jean placed a small, light object into his palm. Marco slowly explored the small shape with his fingertips.

"It's got--Are those wings?"

"It's a butterfly!" Jean usually let Marco try to guess, but he was too excited about the success of his creation.

"How on earth did you get the clay so thin? And the texture! You got it so soft! And you made these tiny little veins too?"

"I'm just that good," said Jean, voice colored by smugness. Then he sighed. "Actually, that's not my first attempt. I cracked like twenty of these fuckers before this little guy."

Marco snorted. "I admire your perseverance. And...thank you." Marco wrapped the hand not holding the tiny sculpture around Jean's waist. He always tended to do this, to reach out for him and let his touch linger. Jean wasn't sure if it was because of the blindness or if Marco was just a naturally touchy person. Either way, he didn't mind. In fact, he loved the constant, reassuring warmth of Marco's arm around his shoulder or hand intertwined with his.

 

~~~

 

June 16, 2015

  
   
Jean woke up early the morning of Marco's twenty-sixth birthday, too excited to stay in bed a second longer. He gave Marco's cheek a soft kiss before sliding out of bed and checking the weather. Today had to be perfect. He went ahead and padded to the kitchen in the fuzzy red slippers Marco had given him the previous Christmas and cooked breakfast for the both of them. By the time Marco stumbled groggily into the kitchen, he had coffee, omelettes, and toast ready on the table.

"Happy birthday, love."

Jean shuffled across the kitchen and kissed him, then caught his hand and placed it gently on the back of his chair. Then they both sat and started on their breakfast. This was their morning routine ever since they had moved in together, and it made Jean smile to think how comfortable it already was.

He tried to mask his excitement as they talked between bites, but he supposed the spark of nervousness in his voice gave him away. After they were finished, and Marco gave his "compliments" to the chef--in the form of a gentle kiss on the cheek--Marco asked what he was planning. Jean smiled and led him outside.

"I really think you're gonna love this one, Marco. Oh, it's on your left."

"Thanks."

Marco reached out to feel the sculpture. The shape was abstract, comprised of narrow pipes and hollow bends. It felt smooth and light, but no matter how long he touched the sculpture's odd curves, he couldn't for the life of him identify the shape.

"Jean, I really have no idea what this is."

"Just wait." So they waited, quiet with anticipation. And they waited. And waited.

"Nothing's happening."

Jean was starting to get frustrated. "Trust me Marco, it worked perfectly before, we just need--" He was interrupted as the wind began to blow. A faint whistling emanated from the sculpture and steadily grew louder. Several different pitches sounded as wind spun through the pipes, each harmonizing with the last. Marco's face lit up as the air filled with the sculpture's soft, humming music.

"Jean, this is..."

"This is all for you. And all because of you. I'd never have thought to sculpt something not meant to be seen, but heard. Or touched. Not before you. You've helped me grow as an artist, and as a person--hell, I'm _still_ growing because of you. And for your birthday I thought I'd try to show you how much that--how much _you_ mean to me."

"Jean, I--wow, I just--" Marco gave up on words. There were none to capture the bubbly warmth flooding his chest. So he kissed him.

Jean loved the way Marco kissed him. There were the gentle, slow kisses where he'd reach out carefully and bring his hands to cradle Jean's face, a thumb brushing his cheek tenderly. He'd lean in, using his hands as a guide to find Jean's lips. Sometimes he was a little off and Jean tilted his head so Marco wouldn't accidentally kiss his nose or his chin.

Then there were kisses like this one. Excited kisses, where Marco wouldn't bother with accuracy. Kisses on his nose, his cheeks, even his eyebrow one time. Jean loved every one, no matter where Marco's lips landed.

 

~~~

 

May 21, 2016

  
   
"I made something for you!" Jean plopped something hard and heavy onto Marco's desk with a thunk.

"What is it?"

"Come on, Marco, you have to guess! But don't worry, I think you're gonna like it. In fact," he added as a quiet aside, "I _know_ you like it." Jean tried and failed to stifle a giggle, and Marco raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Am I gonna regret this?"

"No, no, keep going, I'm sorry. I'll be quiet, I promise." The mischievous upturn in Jean's voice did little to reassure his boyfriend.

Sighing, Marco slid his book away and searched for the object with his hands. His first observation was that it was long and narrow, standing perpendicular to the desk. He let his fingers glide over the sculpture, feeling all its curves and ridges. _Wait_. His eyes narrowed. As if for confirmation, he dragged his fingers over the familiar shape from base to tip, then dropped his hands and glared at nothing in particular.

"You dick." He fought to keep an involuntary smile off his face.

Jean could no longer hold back his snickering. "No, Marco, _that's_ a dick!"  He was practically cackling at this point. He squeaked and ducked out of the way as Marco grabbed the clay monstrosity and attempted to whack him with it. "Be careful, that's--hey!--that's priceless art you're waving around there!" Marco yelped with laughter as Jean plucked it from his hand. "I think I'm gonna put it on the mantle."

"Jean, if I check and find that thing on the mantle, I will personally beat you with it. What if my parents come over? What if _your_ parents come over?"  
Jean stopped in his tracks, all traces of smugness vanished. "On second thought, maybe not."

Marco smiled mischievously. "That wasn't so _hard_ , now was it?"

~~~

December 25, 2016

 

Christmas carols played softly in the background as Jean spoke. "There's, um…one last gift for you."

"Is it something you made?" Marco's face lit up.

"Sort of."

Marco held his hands out in quiet excitement. He'd always loved Jean's art.

He felt Jean set a small object in his hands, and he set to tracing its shape with his fingers. It was a small box, decorated with intricate swirls of clay. At the top, he found a line of tiny raised dots, arranged in familiar patterns. "You wrote something?" He ran his finger over the line quickly. He paused. He read the line again. And again, his smile growing every time.

"Oh my god, Jean. Oh my god." He was beaming, and his eyes brimmed with happy tears.

"Is…that a yes?"

Marco held his arms out, and Jean met him halfway in a tight embrace. "Of course it's a yes!" Marco's hands traveled to the sides of Jean's face, and his lips found Jean's chin, then his mouth. Jean could feel Marco grinning into the kiss. "Wait!" Marco pulled back with a gasp. "It's a box!"

"I was wondering when you'd remember that," Jean replied, his voice light with humor. Marco opened the lid of the box still in his hand. "Here, let me put it on," Jean said.

"Okay!" Marco held out his hand, almost shaking with giddy excitement. Jean slipped the ring slowly onto his finger, then raised his hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Marco laughed, and he leaned in so that their foreheads touched.

Jean's voice was full of his smile. "I bet you never saw that one coming." Marco laughed.

"You're right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I got a comment a while ago on an older version of this work asking how Marco knows what the ingredients are when he cooks. The answer? Marco may be in love with Jean, but his first love is a Braille label maker he uses for pretty much everything (because organization is important and he's an absolute nerd).


End file.
